


Veni, Vidi, Vici

by EttaWohlPierce



Category: A Discovery of Witches (TV), All Souls Trilogy - Deborah Harkness
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-08-20 05:56:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20222938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EttaWohlPierce/pseuds/EttaWohlPierce
Summary: A young witch is thrust into the De Clermont life. Baldwin/OC





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1  
“Damn it, Diana! Answer your fucking phone!” The young witch cried into the cell, tears burning into the back of her throat. She had been calling for hours now, varying between her cousin’s number and her aunts. No one had answered. 

Brianna Bishop slammed her phone on small wooden table in front of her, clutching her forehead and breathing deeply. Since modern technology came into both the human and supernatural world, her family had embraced it. Until now at least. Brea had returned not 24 hours ago to her small home in Madison County, NY and despite living only a twenty minute drive from her family- she hadn’t seen them nor heard from them. Her home (which was to be watched by her Aunt Sarah and her partner Emily) was drowning in dust, the cat was missing and her entire garden had withered up and died. In the brief months she was gone, Brianna’s once cozy colonial farmhouse had turned into something out of a horror movie. Her third eye didn’t have to tell her what she knew, something was terribly wrong. 

With a gesture of her hands and muttering of a spell, Brea flew out of her kitchen and into the entrance hall where she had dropped her large suitcase. Digging through the dusty clothes and small souvenirs (one of which was finger bone of a long decreased powerful Egyptain witch- Brea had intended to give it to Sarah), she located her drivers license and a few American dollars. Now, where were her car keys? 

The witch once again summoned her power of flight, not bothering with the old stairs leading to the second floor, her amber colored hair levitating behind her and cracking with static electricity. She skidded into the first room on her right, a large low-ceiling master bedroom. The once dark wooden walls were now painted a warm white, contrasting with the remaining wood floors and accents. Breanna’s metal framed bed was a welcomed, familiar sight to her. It was covered in mismatched patchwork quilts and assorted pillows piled high. 

Oh, how she longed to just dive into it. 

Attempting to ignore her bed, Brea headed to her dresser. Placed delicately between her trays full of rings, earrings and assorted perfumes, was a ziplock bag and manila envelope. Breanna was glad to see her car keys and a wad of cash in the bag, but it was the small envelope that held her attention. Slipped her fingers under the lip of the paper, Brea opened it and began digging through.

On a small sticky note, a number was scrawled messily with no explanation. Confused, she tossed it back in and grabbed the remaining paper. 

-Breanna,   
I know you must be upset, and I’m so sorry to have dropped you like this, honey. Something has happened with D. and M. Get out of Madison, call the number when you can and we will explain.   
With love,   
Sarah and Em

P.S   
Tiger is with the coven. 

Breanna stopped reading, her heart pounding as the information processed. What would have been so terrible that her family had abandoned their homes and run away? She thought back to the previous conversations with her aunts and with Diana. Brea had heard about Matthew, or M. as Sarah referred to him as. But from what she understood, it hadn’t of been serious. Nothing to cause concern. In the few weeks that she had last talked to her, had changed so much? 

Fretting now but slightly relieved that her Aunts, cousin and cat had semi planned the disappearance and weren’t kidnapped by the unknown, Breanna began to change. Replacing her airport soiled clothes with skinny jeans, a camel colored cashmere turtleneck and her wool coat, she quickly packed an old gray duffle with a few essentials. On her way out Brea shoved the keys and cash into her coat pocket and tucked the envelope under her left arm. She didn’t bother to unpack her suitcase, and magically summoned her cell phone from the kitchen to where she was in the hall. With one last look around the old farmhouse, she locked the door and hurried out to what now seemed to be the unknown.


	2. Chapter 2

Within the deep walls of Sept-Tours, the De Clermont family gathered around a large, aged table. It was, in fact, the same one that they had used while plotting to save Diana from the clutches of the witch Satu and vampire Gerbert. Night had recently fallen and the room was dimly lit from the scones running along the walls, the flickering flames casting shadows across the face of Baldwin Montclair. 

He was hunched over a glass of red wine, gently rubbing the stem and his eyes closed in concentration. The faces of Ysabeau, Marthe and Sarah held similar expressions. A gentle tap on the surface of his phone caused all members to tense, each of them dreading the next few moments. 

“Hello? Hello? I don’t know who this is- my Aunt Sarah Bishop gave me this number. My name is Breanna Bishop and I need help,” The woman’s voice paused, and a shaky breath left her mouth. “I got out of Madison, and I’m staying at this motel and someone is-” Breanna paused again and let out a quiet scream as loud bangging sounded. “Whoever it is, they aren’t using magic, I don’t understand, but something, something is wrong! I can’t use mine-” 

Sarah moaned as Breanna audibly screamed, and the sound of struggling ensued. The voicemail ended abruptly as silence filled the room. 

“I received this early this morning,” Baldwin paused to take a large mouthful of the aged wine, clearly shaken. 

“Is this your niece, one of whom we discussed earlier?” Ysabeau turned to Sarah, her accented voice firm. Sarah didn’t answer her face one of agonies. 

Marthe stepping around the table, came to grasp Sarah’s thickly covered shoulders. As if being slapped, the red headed witch reacted quickly and marched to where Baldwin was standing with her finger raised accusingly. 

“I told you. I told all you. You said you would answer, Baldwin!” Sarah shouted, her voice cracking with pain. 

“We both thought something like this would happen and you assured me that keeping my distance was the best way to protect her. You promised, Baldwin!” Sarah’s finger was now digging into the thick chest of the vampire, and the air began to fill with energy. 

Baldwin said nothing in regards to what the witch had said, rather he stepped closer to her- forcing Sarah to angle her neck sharply upwards. 

He breathed in deeply, feeling emotions he would never show as he met her watery blue eyes. “Sarah, I will get her back- personally.” Baldwin said nothing else and walked quickly out of the room to his personal office, his fingers already tapping his cell phone. 

As far as the other vampires were concerned in the room, this was the first time Baldwin had ever really made such a promise to another witch. It was shocking to both his vampire mother and Marthe. 

Sarah’s eyes followed Baldwin’s stalking form out of the room, her mouth agape. If it wasn’t for the current situation, she would have remarked on how dramatically the head of the De Clermont family exited. Instead, she too turned to leave, a craving on her mind. A craving that could no longer be fulfilled as the one thing she truly wanted in that moment was in the arms of the woman she loved. 

A woman who was now dead. 

\-------------------------------------------------

When a vampire makes a promise, there is little he or she may do to break such a vow. Not that Baldwin would ever do such a thing.

Sarah was right, he thought angrily. Cursing himself silently for the grave mistake he had made. It was, after all, his responsibly to have escorted the Bishop witch to Sept Tours. That was the plan he and Sarah had discussed. 

Following his and Matthews instructions, Sarah and Emily would have no contact with the witch leading up to the time travel event. This was for both Breanna’s and their own benefit. The entire witch and vampire family was currently under surveillance from the Congregation (despite Baldwin’s ardent refusals), and their every move was being watched. Reaching out to Breanna would only place a target on her head and would require Sarah to fill her in on the passed missed month or so. 

Baldwin used his vampire speed to hurry around his office and an adjacent bedroom, packing clothing and making important calls. With no goodbye to his family nor the demons who had just recently arrived that week, he boarded his helicopter.


	3. Chapter 3

It was late evening of the first of November as Baldwin landed in Albany, NY. Though the small city was quite a distance from Madison County, he would have no problem getting there. His sources in the area (vampire one’s of course) informed him that Breanna was on her way to the city of Boston at the time of her taking. As he had expected, the witch was defenseless and not expecting the brute attack that had left most of her car burned and hidden in a parking lot a mile from where she was staying, as well as her hotel room ruined. 

A small fire of fury started to burn in his chest. Unexplainable and unexpected, Baldwin could do nothing to quell it. So it stayed, brewing and growing stronger. 

The plan he, Sarah and Matthew devised was thought to be a good one. Apparently not. If only the young Bishop witch had called sooner and not with news that she was being kidnapped. If only Baldwin had gone to meet her or sent Marcus, rather than staying at Sept-Tours as he convinced himself that he was needed there. 

He could, if he desired so, could come up with hundreds of more “If only”’ scenarios, but none of them would help Breanna Bishop. 

The sky darkened into nightfall around him as he flew in another helicopter, the dark mass below him seemed bottomless. Soon the city lights faded into the occasional splattering of small towns made up of street lamps and lit homes. He enjoyed flying far more than other kinds of travel- perhaps it was because his most comfortable state was when he was observing the mess of the world and not actually in it. 

Sending a brief text to Ysabeau telling her of his arrival, Baldwin then looked to the photo on his phone that Sarah had sent him of Breanna. He had never met the witch, and before this evening had only known her name and importance to Sarah, Diana and the lost Emily. He hadn’t heard them talk of her often and when they had, conversations usually stopped or changed when Baldwin had entered the room. 

That was one of his many powers he supposed.

Strangely enough however, he wanted to know more about this witch of whom he was charged to protect with his life. Baldwin himself had promised her safe return, and he had no doubt that this would happen. Searching through his messages between he and Marcus, Baldwin finally found the photo he was looking for. It was the most recent photo Marcus could find (as he was unable to contact Diana and didn’t want to bother Sarah with such a thing). 

Posted by Harvard University two years ago, the image was of Miss Bishop receiving her doctorate degree in Anthropology. Donning a bright smile and minimal makeup, Baldwin was shocked at the brilliance of which her beauty shown. Her face was long (similar to Diana’s in fact) but with rounded cheeks and a pert nose. Breanna’s dark green eyes were almond shaped and the corners wrinkled gently with her expression. The most noticeable part of her, however, was the long auburn hair that contrasted oddly with the red doctoral gown she was wearing. 

It was quite comical really, the poofy hat and all. Before he even realized it himself, a small smile began to form on his lips. Unaware of the time passing, Baldwin began to immerse himself into researching whatever he could on Breanna. Like most supernaturals, she didn’t have any social media accounts but was well published. The most recent post of information he could find on her was one detailing the trip to Egypt the anthropology department had taken. Rather than studying the literary evidence of witchcraft like her cousin Diana did, Breanna preferred to focus on that which was physical such as ancient sacrificial practices. 

“We are landing in five, Mr. Montclair.” The pilots voice came over Baldwin’s headpiece. Sure enough, Madison country was just below them. 

As the de Clermont’s family battle strategist, Baldwin was well prepared to find Miss Bishop and to conquer those who took her. Like most experienced hunters would do, he started where she last was. Part of this reason was to examine her home for evidence, but also to detect her scent. It would make the process much easier if he knew her smell. Baldwin trekked on foot, using his vampire speed to quickly locate the witches home (Marcus had described it poorly and Baldwin had in fact ended up at the wrong home twice). 

Had never been to upstate New York, nor a witches lair before, Baldwin wasn’t sure what to expect. He wasn’t disappointed. 

Breanna’s home was of decent size, despite her being the only one living in it. It was at least two hundred years old and strongly showing it. The blue exterior paint was chipping, two fence posts needed replacing and half of the home was covered in ivy. Due to the recent frost, all of the flowers that were in hanging planters scattered along the porch had died. It was clear that her home had not received a loving hand in some time. 

Baldwin pushed through the gate in the picket fence and walked up the stone path to her door. Despite the surrounding gardens being quite frozen, he could tell that like most witches, she had a green thumb. This was evident in the sheer size of every plant as well as the organization in the vegetables, herbs etc. As he stepped onto the porch, the old wood creaked. 

A strong breeze ruffled his copper colored hair and the tail of his wool coat, bringing to him surrounding scents. There were too many to distinguish. 

Witches and another vampire had recently been here. 

A deep growl sound from his throat as he recognized Gerbert’s stench. It was however, at least two days old. Gerbert had been to the witch's home, many times it seemed. Baldwin followed the Gerbert’s trail which lead him along the outside perimeter of the house as well as into it. Just as Baldwin was doing now, it seemed that the other vampire was seeking out Breanna. Baldwin moved quickly through the inside of the home carefully and slowly. Just as he was leaving the kitchen and adjacent stillroom, he paused. On the wall were two small frames. In one was a photograph of Breanna with her aunt and cousin Diana at what seemed to be Christmas and the other was of a man and woman that Baldwin didn’t recognize. It was a wedding photo of what must have been Breanna’s parents.

Baldwin didn’t fully know the story of how Breanna came to stay with the Bishops but knew it was one of death, loss and pain. 

Breanna’s mother, sister to Stephen Proctor, was clearly where Breanna earned her red hair from. Baldwin imagined that if Breanna’s parents were alive today, the young witch would look like a copy of her mother. 

After locating the witches bedroom and selecting a piece of fragrant clothing, Baldwin left to track her. He knew her scent now. Unlike humans or witches, vampires could smell hundreds of different things in just one person’s scent. Breanna was no different. He detected bluebells, apple, cedarwood and what he knew to be jasmine. Mixed within it was something he had smelled within Diana, something he too recognized in the other witch- power.


	4. Chapter 4

“Oh, Goddess-” The pounding pain in her skull was killing her. Breanna groaned again as she was becoming fully aware of the cuts, gashes and bruises all over her body. She didn’t know what time it was or how much time had passed since she was taken. All she knew that it was vampires who had dragged her out of her bed and had been torturing her. 

The only positive thing Breanna could think of in her current situation was that she was alive, but most importantly, her magic was back. She could feel the electricity of it from her toes to the tips of her fingers. It was good to be back in her natural state, Brea had felt so weak and terrible human before.

Breanna’s only hoped that the vampires didn’t notice its return. 

She sat up and scooted back against the cold, damp stone wall behind her. It was clear from the noise and rushing water only a few hundred feet away from her, she was in some underground drainage system. Breanna narrowed her eyes as she examined her new prison, fighting to see through the dark and into the shadows. 

All the sudden a lantern came into view and attached to it, she assumed to be her captor. He was a vampire, that much was clear from his icy stare and bloodthirsty eyes. Her third eye told her he was young, a fledgling.

“What do you want, vampire?” Breanna called out to him and crossed her arms in a silent form of defense. Summoning her restraint, she called her power to remain silent. 

The vampire stepped forward and thrust the lantern into Breanna’s face, forcing her to flinch backwards. He knelt in front of her, once blue jeans now stained black. At the time of his turning, Brea guessed his age must have been twenty or so. But now, with darkened pupils and thin, sallow looking skin- it was hard to tell. 

Why would someone do such a thing- curse an innocent man to a life of thirst, loneliness and never understood desires?

She held her breath as the creature leaned closer and breathed in her scent. 

Fuck, Fuck, Fuck she chanted over and over again in her head, willing her heart to slow its furoius beat and her face to appear indiffernt to the current scenario. 

What do I do? Breanna squeezed her eyes shut as the vampires nose trailed slowly across her face, as if following an invisible map.

After a few moments the vampire stopped and stood, turning his back to her and leaving Brea shaking in his tracks. 

This is my moment, she thought. Grasping the wet wall behind her, she staggered to her feet. 

“Fire, fire, fire bind to me  
By the power of three  
Give me control and I’ll set you free,” 

Breanna chanted loudly, holding her dirty and bloodied hands up towards to lantern and its flickering flame. 

It was as if time had slowed to an almost faltering stop. The vampire turned slowly, not entirely processing what was occurring. Breanna’s hair began to rise with electricity, snapping and moving wildly. 

With a gentle gesture of her left hand, the once small flame in the lantern grew and quickly engulfed the vampire. Despite the fire, there was no smoke nor smell. 

These flames were unlike any other kind of fire, for this was witchfire, a powerful and unmatched element that only the truly gifted witches could master. 

The fire was quick and fast, spreading over the vampire in a matter of seconds- leaving him screaming in agony. Without looking back, she ran into the darkness. Brea had no idea which way to go nor could she see well in the dark abyss surrounding her. The witchfire drained her, leaving her powers at a low, exhausted out level. 

It wasn’t until now that Breanna realized she was without footwear. Ignoring this minor issue (minor in comparison of the current issues at hand) she moved along a tunnel trailing her hand for guidance. However, little did she know that this small action would not only allow her hunters to find her, but also the man charged with her protection. 

Suddenly, a loud scream echoed through the tunnel. Was her vampire captor still alive? Or was it a new threat? The relief she was feeling from escaping soon seeped out of her chest and was replaced with stomach aching, head pounding fear. Knowing better than to stop and call out, Breanna started to run and wished for her magic to return. 

Her plans of escape were thwarted however, as a vampire grabbed a fistful of her auburn hair and yanked back. 

Like a great shards of glass, the witches scream tore through everyone who heard it. The pain, fear, surprise and notes of anger were like a siren to those around her. Especially Baldwin Montclair, who was currently removing the head of one female vampire from her shoulders just a few yards away.   
\------ 

By the time the Roman vampire had reached Breanna, his presouvly porcelain colored button down was stained red. It had been some time since he last killed a vampire, and Baldwin had forgotten how messy it could be. He had made a grave mistake in wearing one of his nicer three piece suits this rescue mission. 

With a glance down at his torso, Baldwin made a note to throw out not only his shirt but waistcoat as well. 

Moving onwards through the underground tunnels, Baldwin followed the scent of apple, cedarwood and jasmine, dampened with the ever recognizable stench of fear. Due to his vampiric speed and skill at tracking, it took the De Clermont head only a few moments to find the witch. 

The Bishop witch was being held by her neck against the stone wall, her feet kicking weakly out at her assaulter. Her thin, freckle covered fingers clawed fursoilsy at the hand that was slowly taking her life force. 

Over the shoulder of her attacker, for the first time the witch hazel eyes met Baldwins. The older vampire felt as though something had kicked his chest out, bruising a rib or two. Baldwin was shocked, since his changing eons ago, he had never felt the air knocked from his lungs. 

Without thinking, Baldwin charged at the vampire and harshly hurled him off the witch into the water next to them. Just as quickly as he had been thrown away, the vampire returned baring his fangs and hissing wildly. There was no hesitation as Baldwin swung out towards the vampire, brandishing a short sword, and sliced the vampires neck clean off. While the head rolled away, the vampires body landed loudly with a thud not a foot from where Breanna was hunched over. 

Once again, their eyes met. 

“Holy mother of hot demons,” The young witch gasped in shock and then proceeded to curse at the decapitated body in front of her.

“Freakin’ bastard! Ugh!” She acted irrationally and without a chance to stop herself, Breanna’s foot swung out to connect with the deceased vampires genitals. 

Baldwin flinched but was quick to compose himself.

“We need to go now.” He grasped Breanna’s arm as gently as he could and ushered the witch towards the exit ladder that was only a few hundred feet from them. If it wasn't for the vampires excellent vision, Breanna surely would never have found it.   
Breanna stood back as this new vampire she had yet to know climbed up the ladder and pushed the man hole cover off. For some odd reason, perhaps it was her witch instinct or just a feeling in her gut that told her so, Breanna trusted him. This should have been a welcoming sense, yet it just made her more uneasy. 

How did this vampire know her and how were they possibly connected? 

Cars honking, voices and the lights of some city traveled down to the tunnel where Breanna stood covering herself with her folded arms. The vampire above her quickly checked the area before extending his large hand down below to her. For a moment, Breanna hesitated. 

“We need to hurry, Breanna please.” The accented voice called down to her and before she knew it, the hand grabbed her own and she was dragged upwards. 

“Stop grabbing me!” Breanna cried out angrily as she faced her rescuer. Like the rest of the creatures she had encountered this evening, he too was a vampire. Taller than her, by at least a foot, he wore a deep scowl on what she suspected to usually be a very handsome face. It was hard to tell. 

Similar to her own hair, the vampire was lightly colored auburn. It made his skin appear a bit more pale and his deeply set eyes dark. 

Breanna could get lost in his eyes and without realizing it she stepped forward. The vampire grasped her hand, which was quite dirty, and held it to his lips.

Pressing a firm kiss to the top of her hand, the vampire introduced himself.

“Baldwin Montclair, at your service m’lady.” He lifted his head yet still held her hand. 

Breanna’s mouth proceed to open, then close. Repeating that process again she managed to strangle out a few words from her sore throat. 

“Head of the DeClermont family? For Hell's sake, whatever are you here for?” She was shocked to see this vampire. Not only was the head of the Congregation, a Wall Street tycoon but this man was the brother of her cousin’s new love interest.

“I am here to take you home,” Baldwin, realizing he still held the witches hand, let go of her as if he was burned. 

“But I’ve just left my home,” Breanna paused to look around. They seemed to be in an alley way of sorts. It was tall, and dark brick walls encased her and the vampire on both sides. A gentle sprinkle rained down on them and Breanna tilted her cheeks up to the sky, embracing the cool and refreshing feeling. 

She could feel the icy patches of Montclair’s eyes tracing her face and then down to her body. 

“I mean to your family, Sarah and them.” Baldwin’s mouth twisted as he thought of the older, spirited red witch. He dreaded however, sharing the news of Emily’s death. 

Breanna didn’t answer and moved back to support herself on the wall, crossing her arms for warmth. 

“Where are we?” She called to Montclair and suppressed a shiver as his icy gaze fell upon her again. 

“London, I believe.” Baldwin turned away from her to retrieve the phone from his coat pocket. With a gentle sniff to the air, he quickly removed the heavy wool coat and passed it to the witch. 

He didn’t bother to look up from his phone as she took it from him gratefully and wrapped herself in the warm embrace of fabric and cologne. 

Suddenly, Baldwin was on his cell speaking some form of French. Breanna was skilled at many languages but these words were unfamiliar to her ears. 

She examined Baldwin from the leather shoes to his navy silk waistcoat. The vampire was a formidable creature and muscle coated his arms, shoulders and legs. His height, powerful athletic body and overall terrifying demeanor made Breanna wonder how anyone could possibly face him and come out of it alive. 

At the end of the alley way, a sleek black car pulled up and honked once. Seeing this, Baldwin quickly bid his goodbyes to whoever was on the phone and headed to the car. Breanna moved slowly behind him, wary still. 

When she reached the car Montclair held the backseat door open for her with a small smirk on his face. 

“I didn’t grab you this time, yes?” 

Breanna nodded at him and silently slid inside the dark leather interior. There was a divider in front of her, preventing her from seeing the driver as well as providing her and Montclair privacy. 

Soon they were on there way and eventually the city noises faded ever so slightly. 

“Where are we going?” Breanna turned to the vampire, just now realizing how close they were. As time passed, her body began to ache more and more. The adrenaline was fading and in its wake were hurting bruises, cuts and broken ribs. 

It was a miracle that she hadn’t noticed till now the sharp pain in her left side. 

“My home first then to your new, temporary one I suppose.” 

Breanna nodded and twisted into a comfortable position. Soon she nodded off to sleep, exhausted from the past 24 hours. She was unaware of the future that faced her but right now, she was too tired and hurt to even think of it.


	5. Chapter 5

Autumn sun warmed Breannas face as she relaxed, her face and torso swaying gently. Ever so often the chatter of a passing family, or the ring of a bike bell would reach her. She was currently perched on the balcony railing attached to the apartment of vampire financial tycoon Baldwin Montclair. Something she never thought she would be doing. 

Brea gently laughed at the thought of this and opened her hazel eyes. Legs still swinging, she peeked down at the ground. About sixty feet below her, a black sedan pulled up. Breanna was fully aware of who was in this car, not only from the icy patches she felt eyeing her from within it but also from the passionate cursing she could hear as soon as the doors opened. 

A blur of red hair and black fabric moved from the car into the apartment, leaving the car door dented due to the force it was closed at. She rolled her eyes and began to twist around to greet her vampire watchdog. 

It was not two seconds when Breanna felt a breeze behind her and two cold arms latched around her, yanking her harshly backwards. 

“Jesus Christ,” She exclaimed loudly as she was tossed through the air and landed painfully on one of the living room couches. Breanna blinked rapidly and took in the very pissed vampire braced over her. 

If it wasn't for Montclairs proximity she would have attempted to adjust herself. Not only was she positioned awkwardly against the arm of the chair but her blouse had become tangled and the first few buttons undone, revealing a black lacy bralette underneath.

Montclairs icy eyes scanned her body from head to toe, never hesitating. At last, his dark eyes met hers.

Just as he did to her, Breanna examined him. Shocklying, his face appeared to be flushed. Still wearing one of his many wool overcoats Montclairs chest was frozen and he clearly was not breathing. Amber hair messy and pupils dilated so widely his eyes appear black, he was clearly upset. 

“Good morning,” Brea cleared her throat gently and fidgeted under the vampires piercing gaze. 

As if the life was shocked back into him, Montclair’s eyes narrowed and his move turned into a severe frown. 

“Good morning?” His voice harshly quoted the witch. 

“Good, fucking morning.” Montclair repeated this time, his voice rising quickly. Breanna could clearly tell he was upset and for some odd reason rather than being scared of this obviously emotional vampire, she was struck into silence and confusion. 

“Merte, Breanna! I come home to see you about to fucking kill yourself and all you have to say is ‘Good morning’.” Baldwin was growling now, the noise deep and dark. 

Realization dwelled in the witch's eyes as his words processed. 

“Oh!” She gasped and sat upright without even thinking. Breannas hands fluttered nervously in the air as she quickly denied his claim. Baldwin lifted himself off of the couch (and in turn off of Breanna) and began pacing in front of the witch, ever so often cursing under his breath. 

“I was only enjoying the weather, Montclair. God, you don’t really think I’d do such a thing? How could you suggest that?” 

“Enjoying it sixty feet in the air with no form of protection? What were you thinking, Breanna? You could have fallen, or worse, another creature could have seen you and reported you!” Shouting, he retorted and stopped pacing. Pinching the bridge of his nose, the vampire glared down at her. 

Breanna didn’t respond for a moment and took a few deep breaths. 

“I was just enjoying the weather that’s all. You hardly let me go out, anywary.” Since her arrival at his home only a week ago, Breanna was always kept under his watchful eye. Today was the first time he had let her be. Montclairs obsession with her safety had been the subject of quite a few arguments. Unlike him, she kept her cool and refused to raise her voice. 

Baldwin, still looking annoyed and not at all pacified, crossed his arms over his chest. 

The witch stood up carefully and grabbed the arm of the couch for support as the blood rushed back to her head. Breanna’s dizziness disappeared and she left the room, heading for the kitchen, button her silk blouse on the way. 

As she reached the doorway Breanna looked over her shoulder. Montcliar stood still in the middle of the room, a few feet from where she was just on the couch. A soft breeze stirred the curtains on the balcony entrance behind him. Montclairs dark ensamble contrasted sharply to the light colored decorations and aesthetic of the living room. 

“Besides, I wouldn’t of fallen- I would have flown.” Her tone was teasing but within it there was a layer of seriousness. The sooner this vampire realized she was capable of protecting herself the better. Her bare feet padded gently on the mahogany floors of the hallway as she passed extra bedrooms, offices and parlors. Finally as she reached the large, modern and aggressively white kitchen something came to her realization. 

Breanna had broken a key rule of witchood, completely disregarding her supernatural education. She had revealed one of her key powers to Montclair, a vampire- an enemy. 

\---------------

The youngest Bishop witch had yet to see Montclair for at least an hour, but judging from his surprising heavy feet he had gone to his office upstairs. Breanna was in the kitchen multitasking between an ancient and delicious glass of red wine- one she was sure Baldwin would be annoyed with her for choosing because that was stricting his wine- answering her emails and trying not to burn dinner. There were no servants in the house but Breanna could tell that he had had someone not only clean the apartment thoroughly before their arrival, but also deliver food and clothes for Breanna. 

Montclair’s apartment was situated within a wealthy, quiet district of London. She had yet to leave the apartment and therefore had no clue exactly where in London they were, and the balcony railing view only allowed her to see their street. Perhaps next time Montclair was out she would have to venture to the roof. 

“Roof, roof, roof, roof” Breanna chanted over and over again in her head in an effort to remember that for next time.

Refilling her glass, Brea turned to the stovetop and stirred the squash soup she was making. Her Aunt Sarah had often made soup during the colder months and Brea’s panging for home was the inspiration to make it. Breanna didn’t care Montclair had for dinner as usual it was a simple glass of red wine or blood, which was completely out of her forte.   
A light jazz came from the radio she had found stowed away, its gentle sounds echoing from the kitchen and through the halls. Just as the player was finishing their last note, Baldwin came into the kitchen. In his hands a total of three glasses were balanced as well as a bottle of Merlot. Delicalty placing everything on the marble counter, he then picked Brianna's glass from her hand and held it up to his face. 

The witch sputtered in protest but knew better than to grab it from him, instead she turned the burner off and leaned against the opposite counter eyeing the vampire with irritation. It seemed whenever he was around she was either bother him in some way or he was doing the same to her. 

In a play of dominance, Baldwin’s eyes never left the witches and he inhaled her glass then gently swirled the liquid before taking a small sip. To his pleasure, a small blush rose from the witch's neck to her high cheekbones. 

Not that Breanna would ever admit such a thing to anyone, there was something arousing about Montclair drinking from her class. Whether it was the eye contact, movement of his oddly supple looking lips- she didn’t know. Feeling her face flush, Breanna rolled her eyes at the vampire and turned to fill herself a bowl of soup. 

Waving the ladle she called over her shoulder her voice teasing, “Soup, Montclair?”

Both of them knew what he would say, so rather than responding the vampire took two of the three glasses he had brought and headed to the dining room adjacent to the kitchen. 

Breanna was gathering her dinner and heading to follow him when he came back in, a glass of a thick red liquid in his left hand. For such a large hand, Montclair held the glass delicalty and waved it at the witch. 

“Blood, Bishop?” The corner of his eyes wrinkled gently as he teased her. 

Ignoring the clench of what most certainly a combination of arousal and disgust, she passed him and settled at the seat right of Montclairs. He, of course, was seated at the head of the table. 

They both consumed their meals silently and at, the young witch spoke.

“It has been a week now, I am healed. I would like to return to my family.” Breanna’s tone left no room for refusal, and Baldwin was quick to recognize this. 

He took a sip of his glass and leaned backwards in his chair, eyeing the witch.

“No.”   
“What do you mean ‘no’” Breanna persisted, her tone hardening. 

Suddenly Baldwin placed his glass on the table, pushed the sleeve of his white dress shirt upwards and sighed. Crossing his arms he began to explain himself. This, however, was no easy feat. Three hundred years ago Baldwin would never have had to explain himself to a woman, especially a witch. As times were changing and both the human and supernatural world were changing, such behavior had to change. Just because they had become more diplomatic however, didn’t mean Baldwin always liked it. He especially struggled in being questioned and defined as the witch was currently doing. 

“We have discussed this before many times, Breanna.” Baldwin struggled to keep his voice calm.

“I cannot stay here. I have healed. I have answered your many, many questions and I was under the impression that we had come to a mutual agreement over my innocence. If I recall correctly from our many,” Baldwin’s teeth bared as she referenced his earlier statement, ignoring the threat Breanna continued. 

“Conversations, you tracked me down and saved me at the request of my Aunt. You failed in watching me earlier and therefore had to retrieve me. I have thanked you properly and would now like to continue onto the last of your responsibilities- returning me to my family.” 

Baldwin’s eyes narrowed into slits as she continued.

“It is your choice, you may accompany me and we shall travel together to this Sept-Tours where my family is, or I shall go myself without your permission.” Breanna threatened as the electricity in the air rose while Baldwins teeth shone in the light from the chandelier. 

It seemed without knowing it, both creatures were preparing for a fight.

“There are things you do not understand, when I deem it safe we will leave. This is final.” Baldwin stood from the table and marched away leaving a seething and extremely vengeful witch behind him.


End file.
